Just Plain Ducky
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: Five scientists have vanished. UNCLE suspects THRUSH. Napoleon and Illya go undercover to trap them. Who would have thought ducks could be so complicated? Written for the 2017 Spring Fling in MFU Scrapbook


Napoleon moved carefully to the bow of the boat, ice crunching as they neared the shore. Most of the lake had thawed, but there was still a crust of ice and snow dotting the shoreline.

"Are you sure about this, Illya?" True, the cabin looked comfortable enough from the outside, but it was very isolated. In the summer, Napoleon could imagine families here, the adults relaxing on the porch and kids racing off the edge of the dock to splash into the chilly water. He'd been to a camp or two like this when he was growing up. Back then he never worried about the isolation or unforeseen emergencies. He was a kid. All he worried about was having to go to bed too early and whether or not he'd catch a bigger fish than his cousin the next day.

Illya cut the motor. The silence was almost palpable. "According to intel, four scientists have vanished from this area in the last four months. They have either turned up dead or working for THRUSH. This cabin is the common element in all of them."

"And the lake and the rental place and even the old general store. By the way, did you see how much they wanted for beer there? I'll bet there are two prices, one for the locals and another for the rest of us."

The boat nudged the dock as if greeting an old friend. While there might be a lot of lake traffic during the summer, early spring was a different case. They'd not seen another person in over an hour, not since they'd driven through the tiny village to the dock.

Ducks flew overhead and Napoleon looked up, smiling. "Looks like we're not the only ones here after all." They landed in the water not far from the boat, obviously very happy to see visitors. They quacked loudly and splashed in the frigid lake water.

"I like ducks," Illya said, tilting the outboard motor out of the water. "It'll be nice to have some company up here besides just my partner." He tied off the boat and held the dock as Napoleon climbed out. He hefted first one cardboard box and then another up with a grunt. "At least we will be eating well." If they ran out of anything, it would mean a cold ride across the lake to the general store. Then he lifted up their suitcases.

"No one seemed to think it odd that we'd be renting this place out of season?" Napoleon set the suitcases on the shore and surveyed the area.

"Our cover story is that we are naturalists from the university. I'm going to suggest that we are tracking the waterfowl, since they seem to be everywhere at the moment." A duck quacked, obviously seconding the suggestion. Illya grinned at it. "See? He agrees."

"Naturalists? Does that mean we run around as Nature meant and commune with the flora and fauna?" Napoleon's eyebrows waggled and he laughed at his own play on words.

"If you want to, be my guest. It's a bit too brisk for my tastes to be running naked through the woods." Illya carefully climbed from the boat. "You might want to warn the locals beforehand."

Napoleon scratched his whiskers. "Thin disguises, though." The dock, while tiny, was well made. He, left the boxes for Illya.

"I believe Mr. Waverly used the term, hiding in plain sight." Illya considered his options and picked up the closest one.

Carefully avoiding any lingering patches of snow and ice, they made their way to the cabin. They entered through the kitchen. It was small, but there was a refrigerator and a stove, plus a tiny sink. That was all they needed really. Neither man was going to be preparing _le grande feast_ while here. At least not one that didn't involve hot dogs, cold cuts, and ground beef. Illya smiled, knowing that he'd sprung for a couple of steaks for one night and knew from the clinks in the box that there was beer and wine as well.

Illya unloaded the box he was carrying and then went back out for the second one while Napoleon explored the living room.

It was rustic but the inside was homey. The furniture was obviously well used, but still looking inviting and comfortable. There were two bedrooms at the back of the cabin off from the small central room, a door that led to a screened-in porch, and another that led to a small bathroom. Windows looked out onto the porch and the lake beyond.

Even though the cabin had been vetted by UNCLE, Napoleon still took the time to go through the cabin carefully, checking for any possible issues. The windows were securely locked and curtained. There were no electronic bugs that he could see and the cold weather had taken care of the living ones.

"The last bedroom is clear," Napoleon announced as Illya was coming out of the kitchen. "All that food safely stored? Less whatever you snacked on, of course.

"How-?" Illya started sheepishly and Napoleon came close to brush a crumb from Illya's mustache.

"You are wearing a bit." Napoleon laughed fondly.

"Sorry. They say a man with a beard is never far from his next meal." Illya sat down gingerly on the couch and put his feet up onto a scarred coffee table. "What's next?"

"How about a nice fire and some coffee?" Napoleon looked over at the fireplace, making a face. "Um, does the kindling or the wood go first?"

"How about I do the fire and you make the coffee?" Illya smiled and winked.

"Perfect."

It felt good to have something physical to do after a long week of desk work. The wood was rough under Illya's hands and he cherished the sensation. He was careful as he layered the newspaper, some kindling, and a match. Properly built, the fire would be going in a matter of minutes. If it wasn't assembled correctly, it would take much longer. He struck a match and touched it to the newspaper. It caught and Illya waited for a few minutes before adding some larger pieces of wood to the flames.

Illya looked over his shoulder as Napoleon entered from the kitchen. He carried two cups to a small end table and set them down. The wood was marred and stained from countless cups of coffee, so Napoleon didn't feel a moment of guilt.

The flames hit a pocket of sap in the log and made a loud pop. Illya was on the floor with his gun aimed before he could draw his next breath. Napoleon had dropped to his knees and was in a similar position. Both men seemed to realize the situation at the same time and Napoleon gave Illya a weak smile.

"Mr. Waverly might have been correct in his assumption that we need to relax a little bit more. Personnel was jumping up and down about us taking some time off. I guess this sort of fits the bill."

Illya grimaced as he got to his feet, exchanging the floor for an over-stuffed chair. "Well, if I'm going to be forced to rest, there's no one I'd rather do it with."

"Who said anything about resting? A week here, just us." He reached out and touched Illya's cheek. "I just hope the bed is up to it."

Illya closed his eyes at the sensation and turned slightly. "There's always the floor."

"Rug burns? I'll pass this time around. I've just gotten my knees healed up from the last go round." Napoleon moved his finger to trace Illya's lips.

"The shower?" Illya tried not to sound too hopeful.

The finger traveled down to Illya's chin and neck. "No shower, just a bathtub and it's pretty small."

"Love will find a way." He tilted his head back to give his partner more access.

"You're like a cat, Kuryakin. You love to be petted and stroked."

Illya smiled and arched up to meet Napoleon's touch. "Who me?"

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the kitchen door and a voice shouted, "Hello! Anyone home?" The speaker sounded impossibly young and impossibly female.

"I don't believe it." Illya sighed, letting his head tip forward. "No matter where we go, the women always find you."

Napoleon patted Illya's knee and stood. He took a moment to readjust his pants and went to meet their guest.

"Yes, may I help you?" Napoleon opened the screen door. The girl standing there didn't look much more than seventeen.

"Hey, there! I'm Skeeter!"

"Hello, Skeeter. May I help you?"

"T'other way around. Me and my dad take care of the cabins up here. He don't get around much in the winter, so I told him I'd come over and make sure everything was okay. You're one of the scientist fellas from the university?"

"We are."

"You don't look like a scientist. Why you up here now? There isn't much of anything here."

"Ducks," Illya said as he came to stand beside Napoleon. He was wearing his glasses and Napoleon had to admit to himself that Illya did look more scholarly than he did. "We are tracking the winter and spring migration patterns of ducks."

"Oh… okay. You're the other guy, then?"

"Yes, Illya Kuryakin."

She shrugged. "You can call me Skeeter. Everyone does. Is everything okay here? Do you need more firewood or anything?"

They exchanged looks and Napoleon shook his head. "No, I think that we are set."

"Well, if you need me, just give me a call."

"The cabin has a phone?" Napoleon had apparently overlooked it.

"Naw, from the store." She pointed toward the refrigerator. "We live that way." Napoleon assumed she meant across the lake. "I'll come right away. I'm only about ten minutes away."

"Thanks. We will do that."

They waved goodbye and returned to the living room. "Skeeter… whatever happened to Mary? Or Joan or Betty? What are parents thinking these days?"

Illya nodded, only half listening. "That's odd." Illya tested his coffee. "This is good."

"Thanks, but what's wrong?"

"I don't hear an outboard motor."

"Maybe she rowed in. Who cares?"

"Not worried, just curious." Illya walked out onto the screened in porch and studied the lake. It was eerily quiet to a man used to the noises of the big city. There were a few flickers of light here and there dotting the horizon, indicating that they weren't the only ones in residence. He shivered in the cold.

He sensed rather than heard Napoleon and a moment later, two familiar arms snaked around his waist, pulling him into a comforting embrace. "You ready for some dinner? I'll cook."

Illya nodded. "Always. And dessert?"

"Anything you want."

Illya turned his head. "Anything?"

"If you eat all your vegetables and clean your plate."

"When haven't I?" All the ducks save a few, suddenly exploded from the lake and flew up into the darkening sky. Illya rested a hand on his weapon, concerned until he saw a fox slinking by. "Looks like I'm not the only one ready for dinner."

Neither man saw the silhouette among the bushes.

Their days soon blended into a sameness of routine. They would get up and have breakfast, then wander down to the lake, get in the boat and putter around, notebooks and binoculars in hand. At noon they would head back to the cabin and have lunch.

After that they made a report to HQ and worked upon whatever notes they had made. If the weather was good, they would go back out for a few hours. If not, they would read by the fire or entertain themselves in other ways. Waverly really didn't care what they did, just as long as the reports were made on a regular basis.

To maintain their cover, Illya studied and sketched some of the ducks. There seemed to be a few that stood out from the rest. They seemed braver than the rest, lingering behind before swimming away.

On Wednesday, they headed over to the general store to replenish their stock.

"Hey!" Skeeter was standing by a collection of tired looking vegetables. "How are you two fellas doing?"

"Maybe you should ask Skeeter about your mystery ducks, Illya." Napoleon picked up a can of beans and dropped it into their basket.

"Obviously the honeymoon period is over," Illya murmured and Napoleon smirked. "Skeeter, there are some odd ducks on the lake and I wondered if you recognized them." He pulled his sketchbook out of the pocket of his jacket and thumbed through the pages. "Ever seen these before?"

To her credit, she studied the page for a long time. "I can't say that I have. What do you think, Daddy?"

Another local, obviously her father, looked over her shoulder at Illya's drawing. "That's a Ruddy Duck." He shook his head. "You are dreaming, fella. There haven't been any of those around for years."

"Really?" Illya frowned and looked at his drawing again. "How odd." He sighed. "Guess I'll have to wait until I get the photos developed. My uncle will be sure to know."

It was the quacking that woke Illya up. He looked over at his partner, but Napoleon was dead to the world.

Quietly, he slid from the bed and grabbed his robe before walking to the bathroom. From the small window, he had an excellent view of the lake. There was a full moon tonight and it brightened up the night almost to the point of daylight.

Illya looked towards the dock and frowned. All the ducks were gone except for two or three. It was crazy, but there always seemed to be a few with a death wish. He looked to the shore for a fox, but saw nothing.

 _So, what had disturbed the ducks?_ He thought as he took care of business. Shaking his head, he went back to bed.

Strangely enough, Napoleon hadn't moved. He wasn't usually that deep a sleeper.

Illya tossed the covers back and the sight of Napoleon's bullet-riddled body shot through him.

Illya sat straight up in bed and fumbled for the light.

"Do you mind?" Napoleon muttered from beneath a mound of bedclothes. He rolled over and studied his partner. "Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Bad dream." Then the ducks started quacking, obviously alarmed and Illya looked towards the lake.

"Illya, I'm serious. Are you all right?"

He nodded and shut off the light. He got from the bed, pulling on his pants. "Grab your gun and come with me."

Napoleon followed suit and they walked quietly towards the living room. Napoleon froze as a silhouette appeared on the floor and both men crouched down. The moonlight caught and cast it as the stranger moved past the porch. It paused to try the door before moving on.

Wordless, Illya pointed towards the kitchen and headed off in that direction, while Napoleon tracked the shadow's progress past various windows. When it got to the first bedroom, it paused and the soft _chuff chuff_ of a silencer rippled through the night. Napoleon saw feathers fly up as the bullets buried themselves in the pillows.

He eased around so that he was still invisible to their assassin, for that was obviously what he was as the shadow moved to the second bedroom.

The second round of shots had just been fired into their bed when there was a noise from the kitchen. Without even pausing, Napoleon brought up his weapon and shot. The shadow outside the widow slowly crumpled and Napoleon wondered if the person even had the faintest idea what a target he had been.

Napoleon hurried to the kitchen and the noise. Illya was sitting on Skeeter's back and was effectively binding her hands with the dish towel.

"Don't struggle as I will just bind you tighter," Illya advised. "On second thought, go ahead and struggle." He made sure the knot was snug, not worried as to whether or not it hurt the girl. "I heard you fire. Something?"

"Just shot someone outside."

Skeeter's eyes got wide. "Dad?" she half shouted, her efforts stymied by her position..

"He's going to be asleep for a while now." Napoleon watched as Illya stood and dragged the girl to her feet. "THRUSH is recruiting them younger and younger these days."

"Bastard!"

"Language, my dear, language." Napoleon walked to the fireplace mantle and opened his communicator. "Waverly is going to love this. Thank heavens you woke up when you did."

"Don't thank me. Thank the ducks."

The next morning, the two UNCLE agents watched as the local law enforcement hustled the THRUSH agents away.

"Imagine recruiting a young girl to do your dirty work." The sheriff shook his head. "I've known Skeeter my whole life. Never thought she'd do anything like this."

"This is a hard life for a young girl. She probably had big dreams, bigger than cleaning cabins her whole life. When THRUSH showed up and made them an offer, I seriously doubt either one of them thought twice about accepting it."

"Just goes to show what the temptation of easy money will do for you. Two lives ruined just because they were lazy. What set them on to you two?"

"I'm guessing it was my question about the ducks." Illya tucked his communicator away. "I'd noticed that there were two or three ducks that never seemed to move from the lake. Sure they were in different spots every day, but they never took flight."

"Decoys?"

"Would you believe remote control?" Napoleon held up a small black box. "With this, they could move them around and still use them to spy on anyone they needed to.

"Who would have thought it?" The sheriff put away his notebook. "Your Mr. Waverly has agents on the other side waiting for us."

"Oh?" Illya looked at Napoleon, who was playing with the remote control decoys.

His partner didn't look up. "Didn't I tell you? Mr. Waverly figured that since we were paid up to the end of the week, we might as well stay and make sure everything is finished up."

"Sounds good to me," Illya said, watching the sheriff climb into his boat with the others. "So what are do you want to do now? Some fishing?" Illya arched an eyebrow and shuddered as the wind came up. "Something else? Something inside, perhaps?"

"In a minute. I'm a little busy right now." Napoleon raised the controller and tipped it to one side.

"Why? What are you doing?" Illya scratched his beard. It would be good to be able to shave now, although he liked the look Napoleon sported.

"Can't you tell? I'm making sure all my ducks are in a row."


End file.
